


To Those Who Can Afford To Live By It

by ashilrak



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashilrak/pseuds/ashilrak
Summary: Magic wasn’t supposed to be flaunted. It was a gift, treasured and appreciated, but never shown off. James didn’t know why, but it seemed as if Hamilton had never been taught such things. If Hamilton did know, he didn’t care.There were always whispers that Hamilton had only gotten where he was because of his magic. Hamilton had nothing else, after all.James had thought that too, before.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hubris_BNL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hubris_BNL/gifts).



Magic wasn’t supposed to be flaunted. It was a gift, treasured and appreciated, but never shown off. James didn’t know why, but it seemed as if Hamilton had never been taught such things. If Hamilton did know, he didn’t care.

It rubbed James the wrong way, but he was no less enchanted.

The careless shows of ability conveyed a mastery of the craft. Hamilton had spent hours upon hours working with his magic, and he knew what to do with it. For others, it was a mere parlor trick. Poor farmers had been known to use their gifts in times of trouble, but such action was discouraged.

Work and effort was what had gotten them to where they were, and magic was a way to get around that. There were always whispers that Hamilton had only gotten where he was because of his magic. Hamilton had nothing else, after all.

James had thought that too, before.

He and Hamilton had found themselves working together, discussing ideas and arguing their points. They weren’t always together, but when they were they’d lose track of time, the candles serving as the sole marker.

James had expected Hamilton to use spells and other sorts of tricks during their time together. He had heard whispers and descriptions of how Hamilton didn’t do anything without his magic - couldn’t do a single task without it; had spent all his years training his gifts rather than learning basic actions.

His assumption was proven incorrect. Not once in their many hours of discussions and writing had Hamilton showed any hint of supernatural talent.

James wasn’t the most assertive of men, but sometimes curiosity got the best of even him. He had asked Hamilton, “pardon me if this comes across as rude or insensitive, but I can’t help but wonder where all the accusations that you’re only here because of your magic came from.”

Hamilton had frozen, quill dripping ink onto the paper, eyes narrowing as they bore into his soul. “Ah, have you given into the rumors then, Madison? You don’t think there’s any other way I could have gotten here if I hadn’t mastered my magic? Don’t believe that I could be intelligent because I’m not set to inherit a fortune?”

He had shaken his head. “No, you’ve been working the same as I, without magic. I imagine this rule applies to most of your actions, so I’m wondering why the rumors started in the first place.”

“They’re not completely unfounded.” Hamilton chuckled and leaned into the wooden back of his chair. “I do have great skill with magic - the taboo only exists as we know it among those who can afford to live by it. I’ve always had talent, and I’ve always been intelligent. I learned quickly, and then I’d work on it in my time. I was perhaps the most talented of the magic-users among those I knew when I came to America. It was expected that not only would I get my education in the sciences, but in magic as well.” Hamilton had played with the quill in his hand. “Of course, I learned early on that the use of magic was discouraged among scholars - used more for preservation of books than anything else.”

James had nodded.

Hamilton had continued. “I still practiced, of course, in private. Magic needs to be used though. Even had I not forgotten anything, my reserves and grasp on it would have weakened.”

He had flexed his hand and looked at Hamilton, trying to figure it out. “Many practice in private. Of course, the usual man can’t do much more than float a pebble or maybe light a candle. I’ve heard you can do much more than that, though. Why did I hear that?”

“Haven’t you guessed?” Hamilton raised a brow. “The war happened. I worked the same as the other men, of course. I was brought onto Washington’s staff, and I continued to work the same as the others. As the war wore on, we were openly encouraged to use our magic as a matter of survival.”

“That’s just healing and warmth and such though, surely nothing that would have caught the attention of anyone.”

Hamilton laughed. “Lafayette was bored one day. I didn’t think about it when I threw up an illusion - just a simple one in the fire. It was the sort of thing I learned as a small child, but the others on the staff were amazed. I had intended it to be a sort of joke, perhaps I had gotten too comfortable, but the others looked at it as if I had just revealed I had hooves instead of feet.”

James had gasped and asked, “you can do illusions?”

Hamilton nodded, and with a wave of his hand, James was on the street outside at midday - men, women, and children alike were walking around, conversing, and he heard the familiar sound of a carriage a short distance away. He could feel the warmth on his skin from the sun above. He blinked and it was gone.

He looked over at Hamilton. “That was an illusion? It felt so real.”

“Yes.” Hamilton shrugged. “You can understand why I was so shocked at the reaction I got to a simple fire trick.”

“What more can you do?”

Another shrug. “Many things. I was never taken on by a mage, so I never specialized in anything. My range is broad, but my knowledge isn’t too in-depth for a particular area.”

James had cleared his throat. “What did you do that word spread so far? An illusion, while incredible, doesn’t warrant the whispers and awe I’ve seen surround you.”

Hamilton had sat forward, and set his quill to parchment once more. “War calls for a great many things, especially in desperate times. You’re a good man, Madison. I don’t wish your judgement of me to lower for what was done in times of hardship. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you, when it is farther behind me.”

He had turned back to his own work, and they spent the rest of the night in silence.

That was years ago, and now, even when on opposing sides, James would still watch Hamilton and wonder.

Hamilton had gotten more comfortable with his life and position, and he became less concerned with just who saw his skills. James knew what Hamilton could do - the illusion that Hamilton had done without hesitation all those years ago was more lifelike than any other he had experienced. The simple warmth, fire, and orderly spells the man used on such a regular basis were nothing compared to what he knew Hamilton could achieve.

Sometimes, James wondered if magic was a visible thing. There were always old tales of those more gifted being able to draw you in and enchant you with a simple phrase and a charming grin. He had thought it silly as a boy, considered it to be part of a fairy tale. After all, everyone around him had been able to do magic, and no one seemed to be so magical.

It was Hamilton who made James’ curiosity return. The man was handsome, but Hamilton’s eyes attracted attention like nothing else. They also sparkled and caught the light, and James had heard more than one lady exclaim over the man’s intelligence shining through.

He had seen more than one lady appear particularly flustered after appearing from a doorway Hamilton had walked through not ten minutes prior, a cocky grin on his face and certain bounce in his step.

James should have looked away, dismissed it and filed it away with all of Hamilton’s other flaws. Instead, he had felt a distant sort of fire rise up within him. He recognized it for what it was: jealousy.

He knew the feelings should have been directed at Hamilton, the girl who was walking around with flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips was beautiful and young; clever enough to catch Hamilton’s attention. But his feelings were not directed at Hamilton. His eyes focused in on the girl when she walked by. She knew what Hamilton looked like when chasing passions, what he sounded like, she could describe the sensation of the something that was always running under the surface of Hamilton’s skin touching her neck and her chest and sneaking under the layers of fabric.

Hamilton always felt as if something wild was trying to claw out from under his skin - the few times their fingers had brushed had left their impression on James.

Time continued to pass by, and James continued to pay too much attention to Hamilton.

He was noticed, of course. Hamilton noticed most things, and there was always a voice in the back of James’ mind whispering tales of mind magics, soul magics, the kinds that promised invasions of privacy far into the reaches of his mind where only he and God were meant to exist.

For some people, time spent alone was something to be avoided. James Madison was not one not one of those people, so it was with a slight irritation that he looked up to find someone walking into his study without even a knock.

It was Hamilton.

James said nothing, watching as Hamilton paced in front of his desk.

Hamilton stopped mid-stride. “James Madison, we worked together, once.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “We did.”

Hamilton turned and stepped toward him. “You wondered what I had done to gain a reputation for using my magic to get me where I was.”

“I did.”

Hamilton leaned forward. “Do you still?”

He swallowed. “I do.”

“Wonderful.” Hamilton sat down and crossed his legs. James’ eyes wondered down to Hamilton’s stocking-covered calves for a split second, but judging by the smirk on Hamilton’s face, his look was noticed. “Now, we worked together once, but that is true no longer.”

James sighed. “Yes, there are things we disagree over, as you very well know.”

“That I do, but that’s not what I’m here to discuss with you, Madison. I’m simply setting the scene, as it were.”

“I see.”

Hamilton smiled. “Perfect.” The suit Hamilton was wearing was a flattering color - setting off the tones of his hair and skin in the most pleasing of manners. “So, during the war, the times of starvation and diseases and countless deaths, many types of magics can be useful. Now, I won’t tell you I’ve never used any of these magics since, because that would be a lie, but that is true for most of these magics.”

“So you really are going to tell me then?” James sat back into his chair. “Why?”

“Because you’ve wanted to know for years. I feel your eyes on me, you know, it still bothers you.”

He turned his head to look out the window, knowing the real cause for his eyes following Hamilton. Warmth rose to his cheeks, but he shoved it down. “Yes, I suppose it does. I’ve always been curious about many topics, and with you so close, it’s difficult to push that curiosity down.”

“Yes, I imagine it would be.” Hamilton’s fingers tapped at the arms of the chair. “Well, of the magics I employed, the two that were the most useful, and most controversial, were the transformation and the mind magics.”

James choked on his breath. “Mind magics? Transformation? Those aren’t gifts, Hamilton, that’s the devil’s work.”

Hamilton laughed. “Oh yes, I’ve heard that many times before.”

“That’s why, isn’t it? People saw you using these things, couldn’t trust you - still can’t trust you.”

“That’d be correct.” Hamilton’s knuckles were white with how tight he was grasping the wood of the chair. “Anyway, the mind and transformation magics. The transformation was mostly for things like clothing, lanterns, candles, weapons, and decoys - things we needed for the war, for our survival. It is very possible that we wouldn’t have won, or survived, without such things. I wasn’t even the only one, I was just the most talented.”

James saw a sort of tension cross Hamilton’s face. “You said mostly.”

“I did.” Hamilton nodded, short and quick. “Food was scarce. Everyone knows that a farmer caught in a bad winter will keep the hearth lit with his magic when there’s no wood - no one expects him to let his family freeze to death when there are other, god-given options, after all.”

He nodded.

“Well, there are other tricks among those who lack the funds to get by honestly. Like I said, things like clothing and candles make up the most of it.” Hamilton’s eyes closed. “But you can’t feed a family with a log-turned-coat now can you?”

James shook his head, biting at his lower lip as his mind tried to imagine where Hamilton was headed with this.

“There are certain rules about magic.” Hamilton looked at him. “That’s what the teachers are for, the teach your these rules and if you get a good one, they’ll teach you how to bend and circumvent them. While some of the rules are more flexible, not a single one can be broken. One such rule is in regards to life; you can’t make it.”

James gasped. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Hamilton nodded. “Everyone knows this rule, it’s a sort of fact of life and existence. However, it’s a rather flexible one. You can’t make life, but you can change it.”

Hamilton paused and took in a breath. “When magic is as discouraged as it is, you end up with an uneducated mass of people. That little loophole isn’t widely known except among those who have needed it to survive. I wasn’t the only one in the army, I’m sure of it, but I was the only one among Washington’s staff who knew about such things.”

“I see.”

“A mouse to a horse or a cow is simple enough with the right focus, energy, and intent. But to someone catching only a glimpse, the mouse is so small it appears to be nothing. We encouraged the rumors, you know. It scared the British to hear stories about Washington’s demon who could turn the dirt under their feet into a fully trained army.”

It made sense. Rumors tended to grow and twist. The sort of demon that Hamilton had probably become in the minds of man wouldn’t be welcome in polite society. Hamilton was still fidgeting, unable to hold still.

“You also mentioned mind magics.”

Hamilton nodded. “Oh yes, those are less of a surprise, but much more terrifying. People can pass the demon-tales off as stories easily enough. Sure, they might still believe them, but it seems silly when spoken aloud. No one knows how my ability to bring life would get me where I am, but mind magics make it seem simple.”

James inhaled sharply. “No one would trust you.”

“People barely trust me as it is.” Hamilton chuckled. “But yes, that’s it. Again, I used it during the war as a need. A push here or there to spread the right stories, helping people keep their secrets, emphasizing mind over matter for those struggling to sleep on an empty stomach, making our pleas to congress for funds and supplies more moving and likely to achieve a result - all at Washington’s command.”

“Why are you telling me this?” James struggled to hear his own voice.

Hamilton’s smirk returned. “People view their own minds and thoughts as theirs and God’s alone. Mental volume doesn’t occur to most, as it has only itself to serve as a point of comparison.”

He felt a pit form in his stomach.

“You, James,” Hamilton said while leaning forward, “have a mind still bursting with all that passion I saw when we worked together. I saw it then, and was intrigued. I decided to let you be, we weren’t met to be yet, after all. But our paths have continued to collide, and you’ve continued to shout in my direction.”

“Oh.”

Hamilton’s hand settled on his desk, palm facing up in an obvious invitation. “James, my question for you is this: would you like to act in a way at least some part of you desires, or would you prefer to carry on as usual.”

He opened his mouth, but Hamilton cut him off by raising a hand. “Now, you can’t deny this. You, James Madison, find yourself attracted to me. It is a physical and intellectual attraction, which has caused some inner strife. I can read you like an open book, and I’m not even trying. I have no problem leaving this room and pretending this never happened. I can promise I won’t use it against you, because if I did, you’d be able to ruin me and my family in an instant.”

“The mind magic. If that came to light, you’d be thrown out and even Washington couldn’t protect you.”

Hamilton nodded. “So what do you say? I find you very intriguing, James. Underneath your cold exterior is a very sharp mind, and one I’d like to get to know.”

He sat back, thinking, staring at the hand on the desk. Moments passed.

Hamilton’s eyes were wide, open and trusting - the calculating glint for once absent.

James Madison took in a deep breath and laced his fingers with Hamilton’s - the feeling coming from under Hamilton’s skin sunk in deep into his bones, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He locked eyes with Hamilton. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Hamilton looked at him, saying nothing for a moment, and slowly moved in. James remained still as soft lips were pressed to the corner of his mouth for a brief instant.

“I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I've never written Alexander/James before, and I hope I did it justice!
> 
> Please feel free to come pester me at my [tumblr](http://ashilrak.tumblr.com/)! :^)
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


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